


Abbie gets her groove back AU

by Bookgirlbx



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: F/M, Ichabbie Valentine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-13
Updated: 2017-02-13
Packaged: 2018-09-24 02:12:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9695225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bookgirlbx/pseuds/Bookgirlbx
Summary: Abbie goes on a holiday and finds romance. One shot for Tumblr Ichabbie Valentine event.





	

It was already February and Abbie’s resolve was being tested. Normally steadfast and firm, she could feel her internal fault lines shifting under the weight of her workload. Abbie needed to get away. She was feeling burned out. She knew she needed some alone time to rest and get back to being herself. All of her priorities were crashing against each other and Abbie was overwhelmed. 

Her flight was booked and her bags were packed finally. The captain thankfully approved the next week off without giving her grief. Abbie was looking forward to her “waiting to exhale” moment in Grenada. Irving had a vacation home out there and had generously given her an open invitation after he left Sleepy Hollow. She decided to take him up on his offer since the house lay empty.

“Mills, make yourself at home.”

“I need a break from reality, if that’s at all possible.”

Irving and his family were settling in to their own lives outside of New York and he was as devoted as ever to his wife now that they’d reconciled. Valentine’s Day was coming up and he’d confided to Abbie that he was going to ask his wife to re-marry him. He’d planned the whole thing out with a romantic proposal in New Orleans, just in time for Mardi Gras. He’d reserved a romantic room at one of the hotels overlooking Bourbon Street with a lovely balcony view of the costumed revelers and floats.

“Some friendly advice, Mills…life goes on. After everything that we’ve been through and all the enemies we’ve faced, life always goes on. Make sure you have a life and love to return to.”

Life goes on.

The words stung a little. Abbie was prepped for a career driven life but hadn’t figured out what would come after. Would there be an after? She quelled her unease by sipping her glass of mango moscato. The sickly sweet cocktail glided through her body and brought a sense of calming relief. Slightly subdued, Abbie started a group chat with her sister and business partner informing them matter-of-factly that she’d be out of town for a week and unreachable, emphasis on unreachable. Before waiting for a response, she shut her iphone down and was determined to leave it that way for the remainder of her trip. 

A taxi pulled into the drive ready to take her to the airport. She was off.  
Twenty four hours and two connections later, Abbie arrived in the town of St. Georges and all her cares melted away as the fragrance of nutmeg perfumed the tropical air.

***

Irving’s quaint Caribbean cottage was charming and secluded with easy access to makeshift trails leading down to the beach or up to the mountains. An old rusty bicycle leaned against the red stucco edifice while pink bougainvillea crept up the lattice framed awning. Nutmeg trees grew lush around the house as birds warbled their song in the verdant landscape. The veranda wrapped around the main floor and the view of the massive volcanic crater that surrounded the island was visible from every angle. The smell of spices wafted through the air and Abbie’s head swam with delight. She felt as if she were in a waking dream. 

Abbie dressed in a gauzy white maxi dress with shoulder cut outs and flip flops, letting her dark brunette waves dangle loosely against her caramel complexion. Her red bikini was semi visible from underneath as she strode out to the manicured yard and discovered a flourishing nutmeg grove that spiced the air. Her petite figure was in stark contrast to the ancient trees whose height canopied overhead. Her first night in paradise had her feeling wide open. In the distance she could hear reggae rhythms blaring a sexy song that seduced her hips to sway and wine as the West Indian breeze caressed her skin. Abbie’s defenses came down and she settled into the mystique of the island. 

After a quick trip to a popular local hang out for dinner, savoring tamarind mojitos with delicious goat curry, Abbie was invited by some of the medical students from St. George’s University to join them at a beach party. She was happy to join their fete and spend the evening drinking and dancing free spiritedly around a bonfire underneath the stars. Her new friends bumped and grinded all around her. A young man with horn rimmed glasses caught her by the waist and held her close, gazing at her undulating body with hungry bacchanalian eyes. Ichabod Crane’s broad shoulders and cheeky lips had her weak in the knees. He was a local man with a light tan dressed in nothing but linen cargo shorts and a subtle six pack. The sheer lack of restraint was making her feel heady in this magical place. It seemed like anything was possible and she allowed herself to imagine what life could possibly be like. 

As the night wound down, Abbie got a lift back to the cottage. Crane was carrying Abbie on his back from the beach and through the short distance back to the cottage. The pungent smell of weed assaulted their senses. He ascended a stone staircase covered in purple bougainvillea blossoms as Abbie’s breasts pressed on his back, arms cradling his muscled shoulders, as his arms hooked under her bare knees. They arrived at her front door under the moonlit sky. 

“Miss, can I call on you in the morning?” He asked. “We could have breakfast and I can show you around town.” Crane prodded.

“Call me, Abbie…I’d like that.” Abbie smiled warmly. “Do you think we could visit the Underwater Sculpture park? It looks fascinating.”

“It would be my pleasure, Abbie. The sculptures are a magnificent underwater display of art.” Crane kissed Abbie’s hand and then her lips. She parted them yielding to his touch before saying good night. 

Abbie retired for the evening and had the best sleep of her life. 

She dreamt of swimming in a lazy lagoon near a waterfall, bare skinned and glowing surrounded by a tropical rainforest. As she swam underneath the azul waters, Abbie felt compelled to come up for air. As she broke surface she was overcome with a profound need for Crane. The desire she felt for this man was lusty and real. She swam in search of her lover and found him near the foot of the waterfall, stark naked with his sex on display. He stretched his arms wide open under the spray of water, inviting her in. She went to him and they languidly kissed and pleasured each other against the rocks. Abbie dreamt of herself entangled in Crane’s hot embrace as the sun beat down on them. The rum or the fantasy had her gently riding him and nipping at his smug lips. Later they found themselves walking on the island cliffs, fingers entwined together, overlooking the Caribbean Sea. 

***

Abbie was awakened by the drowsy heat of sun bursts dancing through the lacy window dressings. An easy breeze caressed her thighs while the rest of her body broke its slumber. She felt amazingly rejuvenated and horny. That dream with Crane sparked her heated arousal. Abbie ran her hand through her decadent curls, biting her lip in pleasure. 

She stretched her petite limbs and sauntered to the bath. Turning on the water with one hand, she kneaded her breast with the other. Abbie climbed into the enormous clawfoot tub with pink rose petals and sank her yearning body underneath the fragrant water to attend to her throbbing needs. 

After satiating her appetite, Abbie dressed in a yellow sun dress and heard a car pull up outside the house. Crane was right on time to take her out for the day. She packed her swim suit and some cut off denim shorts into her bag. Throwing on a straw hat, she met Crane in the lush garden filled with colorful blossoms. 

“Lovely morning, Abbie.” Crane smiled and warmly greeted her with a kiss on the cheek, his bearded chin tickling her smooth skin. He took her hand and led her to his car. They made a quick stop at the House of Chocolate for artisanal breakfast treats and locally grown coffee before driving along the south west coast to the Underwater Sculpture Park. The coastal views along the drive were breathtaking ly picturesque; as if they were in a moving painting. 

At the park Abbie and Crane took a ten minute boat ride to the bay after they changed into snorkeling gear. They both were experienced divers and needed little instruction before descending in Molinere Bay to view the underwater artificial reef made from stones sculptures positioned on the ocean floor. Most of the sculptures were human figures in various scenes and poses in the oceanic gallery that told the story of Grenada’s history and folklore. They swam passed a group of children of different ethnic backgrounds holding hands in a circle; their facial expressions so human. Abbie was moved at the symbolism and felt profoundly grounded in that moment. She gestured to Crane with thumbs up, making eye contact from behind her diving mask. 

Abbie and Crane spent the rest day exploring St. George’s and getting to know each other. So far Abbie was enjoying his company. He was attentive and made every effort to make her comfortable. They went out for lunch and Abbie was pleasant surprised when trying oil down, the national dish of Grenada. This one pot dish made from coconut milk, salted meat, and breadfruit was nothing like she ever had before. It was definitely a throwback to the Afro-Caribbean roots of the island which she was becoming more aware of each day. Crane shared the history of the island, a former slave colony that traded ownership between France and Britain. Abbie was taken aback at learning of the spiritual and supernatural culture that still existed in many of the Caribbean islands.

By nightfall, the pair were snaking their way back to the cottage. They’d stopped at a local ice cream parlor in Market Square to sample nutmeg ice cream which hit all the right notes of spice and sweetness. The smell was intoxicating to Abbie as she laced her fingers with Crane’s.


End file.
